


Red (White and Blue)

by fictionalfix



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Frigga Lives, Gen, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 19:19:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3740596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalfix/pseuds/fictionalfix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Overnight, everyone on Earth born after the 1920's has turned into unresponsive zombies, leaving it up to heroic non-Earthlings (Asgardians) and old folks (Howling Commandos and co.) to figure out what happened, who's responsible, and how to fix it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Technicalities

**Author's Note:**

> Red as in those movies where senior citizens kick ass. Red white and blue as in (Captain) America.

As Thor started to come of age, Amora recognized that it was only a matter of time before her “friend”, second in line to the throne, would make a grab for power, in which event she would do well to have her pawns all ready. She cast a spell to enthrall every new consciousness to enter a world, taking care to choose one of the smaller realms. Not because it was easier; since only so many minds would fall under it at any given time, and each mind would be as tractable as an infant's, the challenge was not in the magic itself. The challenge had never been in the practice of magic, but by its application. So she took on a lesser realm to avoid suspicion of her designs. A realm that had recently experienced its first worldwide war.

According to studies of Midgardian water cycles, the spell (“curse” is such an ugly word - as many spells have gone disastrously awry as curses have turned the tide in crucial battles) should, if dispersed in more than two oceans, have humanity exposed and open to her will just in time for the inevitable coup.

Said coup went poorly (what did he expect, seizing the throne without enlisting her help? and although she knew he only targeted Midgard once Thor formed allies there, she couldn’t help wondering if he - or worse, Odin - had an inkling), with no time to execute her designs. It was not fruitless, however - Amora planted a corollary that would, within a year of the king being deposed, automatically make the humans obey her will.

Amora had not counted on the king being deposed without her realizing it, so a year after Loki took Odin’s place (and face! zing), all humans found themselves subject to a will that didn’t exist. How could she command an army she didn’t realize was ready to follow her? Worldwide, everyone under the age of ninety grew listless in the extreme, performing only enough functions to remain alive and remotely healthy (i.e., ready for battle).

Well. Not all humans.


	2. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Bucky's at.

It could be said that Bucky Barnes looked good for a guy in his nineties, but no one would deny he looked like shit for a man genetically engineered to physical perfection, who had only seen some thirty years in his life. The baseball cap hid only some of the grease in his matted hair, though it did wonders mitigating his unnerving gaze, which tended to attract the last thing he wanted: attention.

His training wasn’t in discretion. Sure, there were always parameters about how much noise you could make, what bystanders weren’t allowed to see, and he could stalk silently, but nothing was long-term. No clue how to make the agent in the crowd, how to read which customer at the bakery was keeping eyes on him out of something other than unease at being near a big homeless man. Hunting a mark down an alley, through a forest, easy. But staying hidden?

Holing up for multiple nights, let alone weeks and months that turned into winter, where walls didn’t have eyes and food didn’t cost anything and water was clean and no one started any trouble or asked any questions...that wasn’t so easy. It was an unfamiliar battleground, and he’d been an active soldier in enough countries to cover the majority of spoken languages. He didn't have a lot of unfamiliar territory.

Detached from 21st-century Washington, D.C., as he was, even Bucky noticed when people started behaving differently. It was almost an improvement, getting away with filching scraps, but it didn’t seem...right. Something wasn’t right, and no one looked like they were doing anything about it. People were always doing things, keeping up with the world spinning, stepping to some rhythm he'd lost track of. But they weren't moving anymore. Someone should do something. Someone had to, he kept telling himself. He could deal with having to sneak meals (more than anyone else seemed to need, had he always been like that?), always checking over his shoulder and putting a limit on how many days he’d let himself stay in any one place, no matter how warm and remote it was.

He could deal with all that, but the rest of the world ceasing to spin like it had the past few days...he couldn’t handle it. At first, for all he knew, there could have been some societal calamity that had hit morale, but when so many shops stopped opening, he couldn’t handle it. He didn’t even know what would be done to help, or who would do it. He had a vague idea there was someone who would, but it was far from comforting. It was not a reassuring “oh, they’ve got it” or an optimistic “someone’ll find a way”. It was disturbing, the idea that someone out there was setting things right, and that they might be doing it alone.

They shouldn't deal with it alone. Not if they didn't have to.


	3. Brainstorming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy gets more visitors at the hospice than usual

“Could it be something in the serum protecting me?” Steve asked. Tactics he could manage, but there’s no way to outmaneuver a...virus? Microscopic-telepathic alien invasion? Mutant rebellion? When it came to the Avengers, you never knew what to expect.  
Peggy scoffed. “And what, I obtained immunity through your saliva?”  
That worked a laugh out of him. Peggy always knew how to maintain an even keel and make others do the same. “I suppose that’d only make sense if you’d made out with the whole east wing of the hospice.”  
She smiled. “Just Angie. Any word from your pals in New York? Stark?”  
Steve shook his head. “Got something on the comm that might have been the Hulk, but it could have just been static.”  
She nodded thoughtfully. “If the green one is active, that means it may well be biological.”  
“Shouldn’t we focus on helping out those who are affected, instead of wasting time figuring why they got hit in the first place?” That, at least, he could do. Whether this was science or magic or some combination, it was Tony or Thor’s area. By now Natasha would have whipped up a short list of enemies potentially responsible, Banner would be gathering data on a global scale, and even Barton might have a good idea where the attack originated (no offense, Clint). But what had Steve done?  
Peggy covered his hand with hers. “Figuring out who’s behind this as soon as possible is our best chance of getting them back to normal. And understanding why some of us were spared is our best clue as to who’s behind it all.”  
“Right,” Steve nodded. Of course. It had just been so unsettling, seeing those blank stares. First Sharon, then Sam, then everyone on the street. Checking the hospice for immune patients had been brutal, knowing there was (for whatever reason) a good chance each one could be exempt. Hoping not to be greeted with another empty, silent gaze. It made it that much harder to ignore when they were, in fact, dead to the world. It was a look he recognized and never wanted to see again.  
“Maybe our experiences with the SSR exposed us to something?” Steve asked.  
Peggy considered this. “It seems unlikely that the government would accidentally develop a vaccine to a virus that wouldn’t be released for another seventy years.”  
“But what else could it be?” Steve was tempted to invite over a few of Peggy’s neighbors to brainstorm, but most were busy calling family and friends to see who was okay. Besides, Peggy said it’d comfort them to know that Captain America and Agent Carter were on the case.  
“It would explain why so many patients here are immune...some kind of residual low-level radiation could have shielded those near me from its effects.”  
Steve couldn’t help smiling. “Even without knowing it, you still help people. Just by being around them.”  
Stop that, her smile said. Then her brows furrowed. “But none of the caretakers have been exempt.”  
“Oh. Yeah.” They went quiet, thinking to themselves for a while.  
After a minute or two, Peggy inhaled sharply, jarring Steve. He worried for a second that she had lost lucidity again. He didn’t know if he’d be able to explain the whole situation a second time.  
It hadn’t been instantaneous, this change, but it was swift and unmistakable. A day at most it had taken the world’s population to stop performing nonessential tasks. Nobody knew what to call it (at least none of the people left with their faculties intact), let alone why they were spared. Maybe if more than a sliver of the population were responsive to non-fatal stimuli, they could find some answers. But so far, Steve and Peggy knew only of themselves and a few other senior citizens at her care facility.  
Instead, he followed her gaze out the window. “Steve, look!”  
He turned in his chair to see what caught her attention. There were no cars pulling into the parking lot, no smoke clouds over the city, no crashing spaceships, just a few storm clouds heading this way - then he saw it. The speck at the head of the rapidly approaching storm, the center of all that lightning. No natural clouds moved that fast.  
“Thank god,” he whispered.  
“You can thank him when he gets here,” Peggy cracked. Steve shot her a look.  
Thor lightly touched down in the parking lot as the clouds gently dispersed, releasing their lord to the ground. He strode to the main entrance until Steve knocked on the glass and waved, getting the thunder god’s attention. Peggy’s room was on the first floor, so he lifted the window for Thor to meet them directly. Steve wondered whether he would have managed to climb so gracefully through a window in armor and cape while holding a hammer. At least the shield could get strapped to his arm or his back. And capes? Even Fury's billowing coat looked impossible to fight in.  
Peggy sat up. “You often deal with this sort of thing on Asgard?”  
Thor nodded in greeting, following her cue to skip pleasantries. “Never this in particular. Fortunately, I believe I know who is responsible.” He turned to Steve. “I apologize for not being available by Iron Man’s frequencies. I was caring for Jane, studying her behavior. I couldn’t leave her until I knew she would be fine on her own.” Steve nodded. He was just glad Thor was okay. He had an even more reassuring air than Peggy.  
“We’ve been trying to work out why some of us are immune,” she said. Steve leaned back as the prince of space and his former commanding officer swapped sitreps.


	4. Breakthrough

As Thor swept out of the door (to avoid further damage to the flower bed beneath the window, he said) a few minutes later to follow a lead in the city, Peggy sighed and closed her eyes, leaning back into her pillows. Horror crept over Steve as he realized he hadn’t considered how she might be taking all this. It wasn’t uncommon for Peggy to keep fears and concerns to herself, accustomed as she was to being scrutinized for weaknesses. Even among those she really trusted, it could be a hard habit to break. Still, Steve knew he was one of the few with whom she could be completely honest, and he hadn’t been living up to that yet.  
“Have you tried getting through to Sharon?” he asked softly.  
She opened her eyes. “I doubt our Asgardian friend has this all sorted already.”  
“Yeah, I mean-” Getting sentiment out of Peggy could be like pulling teeth (not that Steve was one to talk).  
“You said she was the first one you saw afflicted by the...” she waved her hand impatiently. “Whatever the bloody hell this is.”  
“It must be hard, is all.” Steve tried. “All but a couple of your people being dead to the world.”  
Peggy stared at him for a few seconds. When she spoke, it was in a lower voice than usual. “Yes, it...of course it is. It’s terrifying.” She didn’t sound terrified in the slightest. “Obviously. But I know better than to tell you of all people how hard that must be.”  
Oh. Of course she had been holding back for his sake. “Who, me?” he shrugged it off with a smirk. “I’m used to it by now.”  
That got her to laugh. “Alright, Rogers. Go help your friend.”  
“I can do that right here.” It was a serious offer.  
She smiled at him. “If you think you can disobey me because I’m too old to whip your ass for insubordination, I’ve got news for you, soldier…”  
“Yes ma’am. I’m going.”  
“Damn right. Respect your elders.”  
Steve froze mid-laugh. “Wait-”  
Peggy read his mind. “You think that’s what-?”  
He nodded slowly. “That would explain Thor…”  
She chucked her chin at the door. “Check my neighbors’ files. If the link checks out, try to narrow down the window for Thor to eliminate suspects.”  
“I’m gone.” In thirty seconds he was on his motorcycle, following the storm.


	5. Field Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve catches up with Thor, who was chasing down a lead

“Thor! You still in here?” Steve was contemplating ways to use the shield for sound amplification when the god himself crashed to the atrium floor.  
“None of the relics are active,” Thor informed him, absentmindedly shrugging off some rubble. “That eliminates a few who might have been responsible.”  
“Then what’s with the-”, Steve indicated the disembodied skeleton hand clinging to the red cape.  
“Ah.” Thor shook the fingers free and ground them to dust with his heel. “Those remains were enchanted to attack any of the house of Odin who laid eyes on them. It’s a shame, since I’ve longed to visit your museums, but not at the expense of fellow patrons.”  
“Okay.” Steve felt simultaneously out of his depth and relieved that Thor so clearly wasn’t. “Peggy and I got a lead. All those afflicted were born after 1919.”  
Thor frowned. “Do you suspect a connection to your first world war? Midgard’s debut as a people capable of waging large-scale war, proving yourselves a serious threat?”  
“I doubt it. Have you seen any action overseas?”  
The prince shook his head.  
“Then it’s probably not a martial strategy. Could be a fringe group, but who’s even been active that long?”  
“It may not be an organization,” he said grimly. “In Asgard, it takes only an individual to start a war.” He spoke from considerable experience.  
“Any individuals come to mind? The sudden onset, the very specific symptoms, the scale of this thing, sounds an awful lot like magic to me.”  
“I agree. I will consult Heimdall as to whether any convicts from Algrim’s prison break remain unaccounted for.”  
Steve nodded. “Great. Meet me back at Peggy’s. I want to keep her in the loop, see if she remembers any mysterious hostiles from before the war. Might have been Asgardians before, we, you know-”  
“Before our people were properly introduced.” Thor smiled. “May I escort you back to Ms. Carter?”  
He gestured to the exit. “I got my bike.”  
Thor laughed. “I can carry both of you. Come.”  
“Oh, that’s not--” Whatever. Steve followed him out of the lobby and into the overcast street. “You know, I didn’t mean to say your people are necessarily responsible. There are magicians on Earth, right?”  
“This is true. But none of your magicians are up to an enchantment of this magnitude.” Thor wrapped his cape around one arm, keeping his armor from scratching the motorcycle’s exterior and deftly nestling its chassis in his elbow. The other arm, carrying Mjolnir, wrapped around Steve’s chest.   
“Yeah, no, I meant-” A gust of wind hit his mouth, cutting him off. Steve had traveled with his share of planes faster than this, but he was usually on the inside. Jesus Christ.  
“I’m sorry, you were saying?” Thor politely inquired a minute later, as they set down in the hospice parking lot.   
“Uh, I. Wow.”  
“Are you nauseous?” Thor stepped forward cautiously. “I flew only slightly faster than how I usually carry mortals, in light of your modifications, but I apologize if you are-”  
“No you’re good. I mean, I’m good. Just. We’ve got to do that again sometime.”  
Thor chuckled with relief. “No doubt the occasion will arise. Give Ms. Carter my regards.”


End file.
